Transitions carry within them a kind of death. Along with whatever you are transitioning into—even when it is a desired, good transition—there is also loss of what-was. You set healthier boundaries in a relationship, and you miss the “before” in some ways—it’s worth grieving. Your child quits something you had loved cheering them on in, and it may be better for their mental health, but it’s still a loss of that particular point of connection. You find out that you can’t eat certain foods, and it is a series of tiny deaths. You experience an injury or just the signs of aging, and you can’t do what you used to be able to do. It is a loss, and it’s important to acknowledge. It’s the death of a certain way of being in the world, living and breathing, eating and drinking, moving and loving. We talked about Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s "Stages of Grief" yesterday (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). If you have been experiencing any of these on some level—irritation or numbness or working hard to “fix” something that has been lost—what might be at the root of that experience? If you’ve been noticing yourself on edge, wonder with God for a bit: is there something I have lost/am grieving? What do the “symptoms” of your experience of your life and work and relationships point to? Are there transitions you maybe hadn’t even been aware of yet? What might it look like to enter into those transitions more intentionally—to name what is dying in the process, to grieve the loss (in all its stages), and to eventually allow it to fall away as something meant to be shed in this season? How is this different from living in denial of it even *being* a loss, or ending up depressed or angry or numb in a refusal to accept what has changed? Do you have a sense of an invitation for you here?

Posted by Jamie Bonilla at 2022-11-03 13:30:57 UTC